Keeping Score
by The Perfect Drain
Summary: Oliver Wood thinks about the unspoken rules of Quidditch. With suggestive angst and Very Dark Things. Read author's note. 'Tis a POV vignette whatchacallit.


Author's Note:  Um.  Christ.  I don't know why I wrote this.  It latched itself on my brain in the midst of my fluffy other fic, and turned the chapter all depressing.  So I figured I'd get this over with and then rewrite my fic.  (Check it out if you haven't already… 'tis called "Oscillate Wildly," and it's slash.  But this thing isn't, don't worry.)

I didn't edit this at all, really, and I'm sure I can tidy it up and make it a little better.  (That's why it sucks, if you think it does…)  I can prolly make it so it flows more easily, or it's more believable... I dunno.  Tell me if it's worth it.  Give me suggestions on what you want explained further, too, I don't think I got all my idea down.  I hinted a bit at all of it but didn't really say.  I may go back and addmore and change it around, anyway.  I still can't believe I did this to my poor happy Oliver.  

The character Oliver Wood and the game of Quidditch belong to JK Rowling, but I doubt she'll want them back after I'm done.  

If you're extremely bored by or depressed by Quidditch, Oliver Wood, or self mutilation, I suggest you think twice before you read this.

*

We lost a game of Quidditch today.

It always hits me hardest.  I'm the Captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, so everyone expects it.  I wonder sometimes… if they know just how deep it goes, would it bother them?  It doesn't bother me, but I suppose others might think differently.

I tell my players what they did wrong, of course.  But in the end, I always take responsibility.  The guilt cuts into me.  So much like a knife, marking me, reminding me, forcing me to override my instincts.  In Quidditch, it's a good idea to follow your impulses.  If you think the Bludger's heading your direction, it probably is… but then do you avoid it or embrace it?  

Quidditch reminds me a lot of life.  I'm not saying Quidditch _is life.  Most people think I don't know the difference, but I know all too well.  I'm saying that some things are like other things, that's all.  Like the balls used, for instance._

The Bludger – unpredictable, erratic, violent, forceful.  Tell me, does anyone you know have some of the same characteristics as a Bludger? Do you?

The Quaffle – batted back and forth between players.  It's a pawn, and a willing one, mainly because it knows nothing better.  Yet vital parts of the game rest on the hapless object.  It suffers from ignorance, not apathy.

The Golden Snitch – Small, fleeting, hard to grasp.  We're all searching for our own Golden Snitch… for the moment when we can grasp it and say "HA!  I've won the game, I've won respect, I've won all I wanted, because I have this little globe with wings."  But then, when we find the one thing that matters, who cares how the rest of the game comes out?

I've always kind of envied the Seekers.  They get so into their job… they don't have to participate in the rest of the game.  Really, the rest of the game is just a distraction.  When the Snitch is caught, the game is over, your team has won, and the rest of the points earned in the meantime are rarely _that important.  But I don't want to be a Seeker.  It's a lonely job, and the Snitch is hard to find.  The rest of the game may just be a distraction, but it's real enough at the time.  _

It's only after you've won, and the euphoria starts wearing off, when you remember the score.  I always keep score.

I've also envied the Slytherins.  They seem like much more of a … unified group.  They're bound together, through thick and thin.  And they cheat.  Oh yes, they cheat.  It must be refreshing to not play fair.  I wish I could do that sometimes… but the rules are always there, hanging over my head, and I don't dare.

Speaking of envy, I've always guessed that other people envy me.  They really shouldn't.  What's that term?  "Appearances can be deceiving"?  It's cliché, but appropriate.  

I'm good at Quidditch.  I know it.  I'm not nearly that good at anything else.  So Quidditch is what I do, what I play.  Yes, Quidditch is my life, but I wish it wasn't.  The rules get to me after a while, but the rules must be kept.  The Captain remembers the rules.  The Captain keeps score.

I keep score the easiest way I know.  The score is my responsibility, so why not write it on myself?  If you dig deep enough, cut far enough, it won't fade away.  None of my team knows, and I doubt they'd approve.  But this is my cross to bear – the next Captain may keep score differently, but I suspect the marks would be the same on the inside.

One of my fellow Gryffindors saw the score once.  I didn't mean to let it slip, but he saw.  I was worried at first, because he was a prefect, and could have demanded I get counseling or something worse.  But something about him was different… and I couldn't help but think… he keeps score as well.  Not in Quidditch, no, but there's rules in lots of things.  I think I'm right, too.  He never said a word, but I could tell he understood. 

I don't know what I'll do when it's time to leave Hogwarts.  I could join a professional Quidditch team, I'm sure, but it would be harder to keep track without someone suspecting.  I know I won't be cut out for any other kind of work, and I don't fancy lounging around a dirty apartment all day.  I guess I'll just evaluate the remaining choices when it comes time.  I don't really see any Snitches in my future.

For now, I'll keep score.  When we lose, I'll mark it down in blood.  And when we win… when we win, I'll cut even deeper.

. . . . . . .

end.


End file.
